Workers Opt to Retire Amid Shift to AI

“Luke Michel has already lived through two technology overhauls in his career, first desktop publishing in the 1980s and online publishing later on. But AI? He's had enough.

 

So when his employer, the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, made an early-retirement offer to some staff last year, the 68-year-old content strategist decided to speed up his exit. Before, he'd expected to work a couple of more years.

 

"The time and energy you have to devote to learning a whole new vocabulary and a whole new skill set, it wasn't worth it," he said.

 

It isn't that he's shunning AI -- he's learning Spanish with the help of Anthropic's Claude. But, at this point, he's less than eager to endure all the ways the technology promises to upend work.

 

"I just want to use it for my own purposes and not someone else's," he said.

 

After rising for decades and then hovering around 40% in the 2010s, the share of Americans over age 55 and in the workforce has slipped to 37.2%, the lowest level in more than 20 years. The financial cushion of rising home equity and stock-market returns is driving some of the decline, economists and retirement advisers said.

 

But for some older professionals, money is only part of the equation. They said they don't want to spend the last years of their career going through the tumult of AI adoption, which has brought new tools, new expectations and a lot of uncertainty.

 

Many people retire when key elements of their work lives are disrupted at once, said Robert Laura, co-founder of the Retirement Coaches Association and an expert on the psychology of retirement.

 

"Maybe their autonomy is being challenged or changed, their friends are leaving the workplace, or they disagree with the company's direction," he said. "When two or three of these things show up, that's when people start to opt out."

 

"AI is a big one," he said. "It disrupts their autonomy, their professionalism."

 

Michel, whose work required overseeing and strategizing on website content, has been here before. When desktop publishing arrived in the 1980s, he was a graphic designer using triangles and rubber cement. The internet's arrival changed everything again. Both developments required new skills, and he was energized by the challenge of learning alongside colleagues and peers.

 

It felt different this time around. "Your battery doesn't hold a charge as long as it used to," he said. He'd rather spend his energy volunteering, making art, going to operas and chairing the Council on Aging in North Andover, Mass., where he lives.

 

In an AARP survey of 5,000 people aged 50 and older last summer, 25% of those who planned to retire sooner than expected counted work stress and burnout as factors. About half of those retired said they had left work at least partly because they had the financial security to do so.

 

In general, older Americans are less likely than younger counterparts to use AI, research shows. About 30% of people from 30 to 49 said they used ChatGPT on the job, nearly double the share of those 50 and older, a 2025 Pew Research Center survey of more than 5,000 adults said.

 

Baby boomers and members of Generation X also experienced the sharpest declines in confidence using AI technology, according to a ManpowerGroup survey of more than 13,900 workers in 19 countries.

 

"We as employers aren't doing a good enough job saying [to older workers], we value the skills that you already have, so much so that we want to invest in you to help you do your job better," said Becky Frankiewicz, ManpowerGroup's chief strategy officer.

 

Jennifer Kerns's misgivings about AI contributed to her departure last month from GitHub, where the 60-year-old worked as a program manager. Coming from a family of artists, she said, it offends her that AI models train on the creative work of people who aren't compensated for their intellectual property. And she worries about AI's effect on people's critical-thinking skills.

 

So she was dismayed when GitHub, a Microsoft-owned hosting service for software projects, began investing heavily in AI products and expecting employees to incorporate AI into much of their work. In employee-engagement surveys, the company had begun asking them to rate their AI usage on a scale of 1 to 5.

 

When it came time to write reports and reviews, colleagues would suggest she use ChatGPT. "I'd be like, 'I have no idea how to use that and I have no interest in using AI to write anything for me,'" she said.

 

It would have been more prudent to work until she was closer to Medicare eligibility, she said. But by waiting until her kids were out of college and some of her stock grants had vested, the math worked.

 

Her first act as a nonworking person: a solo trip to Scotland, where she took a darning workshop and learned how to repair sweaters.

 

"The opposite of AI," she said.

 

Employers already under pressure to cut workers -- such as in the tech industry -- might welcome some of these retirements, said Gad Levanon, chief economist at Burning Glass Institute, which studies labor-market data.

 

"The more people retire, the fewer they have to let go," he said.

 

Some of the savviest tech users are also balking at sticking around for the AI upheaval. Terry Grimm, who worked in IT for 40 years, retired from his senior software consultant role at 65 last May. His firm had just been acquired by a bigger firm, which meant learning and integrating the parent company's AI and other tech tools into his work.

 

Until then, Grimm expected he might work a few more years, though he felt he probably had enough to retire.

 

"I just got to the point where I was spending 40 hours at work and then 20 hours training and studying," said Grimm, who has since moved with his wife from the Dallas area to a housing development on a golf course in El Dorado, Ark.

 

"I'm like, 'I'll let the younger guys do this.'"” [1]

 

1. Workers Opt to Retire Amid Shift to AI. Weber, Lauren; Smith, Ray A.  Wall Street Journal, Eastern edition; New York, N.Y.. 07 Apr 2026: A1.  

Ar Iranas gali ir nori sunaikinti didžiąją dalį pasaulinės energijos tiekimo sistemos Persijos įlankoje, jei Trumpas sunaikins Irano civilinę infrastruktūrą?

2026 m. balandžio mėn., didėjant konfliktui po JAV ir Izraelio smūgių, Iranas pademonstravo ir gebėjimą, ir pareiškė ketinimą smarkiai sutrikdyti pasaulinį energijos tiekimą Persijos įlankoje, jei bus sunaikinta jo paties ypatingos svarbos infrastruktūra.

 

Irano gebėjimas sutrikdyti energijos tiekimą (gebėjimas)

 

Hormūzo sąsiaurio uždarymas: 2026 m. kovo mėn. Iranas faktiškai uždarė Hormūzo sąsiaurį, per kurį praplaukia maždaug 20 % pasaulinės kasdienės naftos atsargų, reaguodamas į JAV ir Izraelio išpuolius, sustabdydamas tanklaivių eismą ir padidindamas naftos kainas iki daugiau, nei 120 USD už barelį.

Infrastruktūros išpuoliai: Iranas pademonstravo gebėjimą smogti pagrindinei Persijos įlankos naftos infrastruktūrai. Po smūgių į savo objektus Irano raketos padarė didelę žalą Ras Laffanui, pagrindiniam energetikos objektui Katare, ir kėlė grėsmę infrastruktūrai Saudo Arabijoje ir JAE.

Kariniai ištekliai: Iranas naudoja daug dronų ir raketų spiečių, greitosios atakos laivų grupes ir jūrų minas, kad sukeltų grėsmę laivybai Persijos įlankoje ir didžiajai daliai pasaulio energetikos infrastruktūros.

 

Irano noras atsakyti (Noras)

 

Atsakomoji politika: Irano pareigūnai pareiškė, kad jei JAV ir Izraelis taikysis į Irano elektrines, vandens gėlinimo įrenginius ar kitą civilinę infrastruktūrą, Teheranas atsakys, „negrįžtamai“ sunaikindamas energetikos sektorius ir infrastruktūrą visame regione.

 

„Abipusio garantuoto sunaikinimo“ strategija: Iranas priėmė „abipusio garantuoto energetikos sunaikinimo“ politiką, nurodančią, kad jei jo energetikos sektorius bus paralyžiuotas, jis užtikrins, kad Persijos įlankos arabų kaimynai ir Vakarų interesai susidurs su lygiaverte arba didesne žala.

 

Kontekstiniai veiksniai

 

Trumpo grasinimai: Prezidentas Donaldas Trumpas pagrasino „sunaikinti“ Irano energetikos infrastruktūrą ir elektrines, jei Hormūzo sąsiauris nebus atidarytas.

Eskalacijos rizika: Ekspertai perspėja, kad Irano civilinės infrastruktūros užpuolimas reikšmingai nepakenktų jo kariuomenei, tačiau, greičiausiai, sukeltų precedento neturintį pasaulinių energijos rinkų sutrikimą ir sukeltų plataus masto, nekontroliuojamą krizę regione ir pasaulyje.

Is Iran able and willing to destroy most of the world's energy supply system in the Gulf if Trump will destroy Iran's civil infrastructure?

As of April 2026, amid an escalating conflict following US-Israeli strikes, Iran has demonstrated both the capability and stated intent to severely disrupt global energy supplies in the Persian Gulf if its own critical infrastructure is destroyed.

 

Iran's Capability to Disrupt Energy Supplies (Ability)

 

    Strait of Hormuz Closure: In March 2026, Iran effectively closed the Strait of Hormuz—through which roughly 20% of the world's daily oil supply passes—in response to US/Israeli attacks, halting tanker traffic and driving oil prices to over $120 per barrel.

    Infrastructure Attacks: Iran has demonstrated the ability to hit key Gulf oil infrastructure. Following strikes on its own facilities, Iranian missiles caused significant damage to Ras Laffan, a key energy facility in Qatar, and threatened infrastructure in Saudi Arabia and the UAE.

    Military Assets: Iran uses a combination of drone and missile swarms, groups of fast attack boats, and naval mines to threaten shipping in the Gulf, and most of the world’s energy infrastructure in the Gulf.

 

Iran's Willingness to Retaliate (Willingness)

 

    Retaliation Policy: Iranian officials have stated that if the US and Israel target Iran’s power plants, desalination plants, or other civil infrastructure, Tehran will respond by "irreversibly" destroying energy and infrastructure across the region.

    "Mutual Assured Destruction" Strategy: Iran has adopted a policy of "mutual assured energy destruction," indicating that if its own energy sector is crippled, it will ensure Gulf Arab neighbors and Western interests face equivalent, or greater, damage.

 

Contextual Factors

 

    Trump's Threats: President Donald Trump has threatened to "obliterate" Iran's energy infrastructure and power plants if the Strait of Hormuz is not reopened.

    Escalation Risks: Experts warn that attacking Iranian civilian infrastructure would not significantly hinder their military, but would likely cause unprecedented disruption to global energy markets and spark a widespread, uncontrollable crisis in the region, and in the world.

Žinau, kad tu žinai, kad aš žinau, kad tu žinai...: Gana drąsus teiginys: kognityvinis psichologas Stevenas Pinkeris mano, kad daug socialinės sąveikos galima paaiškinti bendromis žiniomis.

“Žinau, kad tu žinai, kad aš žinau, kad aš žinau, kad tu... „Tarkime, kad žinau, jog raudonas automobilis be jokios aiškios priežasties sustojo kelyje priešais mane. Aš tai žinau, nes matau. Taip pat tarkime, kad jūs taip pat žinote, jog raudonas automobilis be jokios aiškios priežasties sustojo kelyje priešais jus, nes jūs taip pat jį matote – juk vairuojate šalia manęs. Mes abu tai matome ir abu tai žinome; kanadiečių-amerikiečių kognityvinio psichologo Steveno Pinkerio terminologija tariant, turime privačių žinių. Be to, galime manyti, kad abu žinome, jog kitas žino, kad raudonas automobilis sustojo be jokios aiškios priežasties, nes abu sustabdėme savo transporto priemones. Turime abipuses žinias forma „Aš žinau, kad tu žinai“: tai darome iš elgesio, kurį stebime vienas kitame. Tačiau abipusės žinios dar nėra bendros žinios, nes vis dar trūksta kognityvinės kilpos.

 

Turime bendras žinias tik tada, kai kiekvienas galime pasakyti: „Aš žinau, kad tu žinai, kad aš žinau.“ Kaip galima suprasti iš šios formuluotės? Kaip suprantame, bendros žinios turi sudėtingą struktūrą, nes galima būtų pridėti daugiau ciklų: „Aš žinau, kad tu žinai, jog aš žinau, kad tu žinai, jog aš žinau“, bet šiuo metu mes mieliau pridėtume „ir t. t.“, kad išvengtume tam tikro kognityvinio svaigulio. „Jei visi žino, kad visi žino...“ „Bendros žinios“ – tai naujausios Pinkerio knygos pavadinimas. Bendros žinios yra daugiau nei žinios, kuriomis dalijamės – aš jas žinau, ir tu jas žinai – tai taip pat daugiau nei žinios, kurias turime apie vienas kito žinias – aš žinau, ką tu žinai, ir tu žinai, ką aš žinau – tai žinios, kurios sutelktos į tą kito žmogaus žinių dalį, kuri sutelkta į mūsų žinias apie jo žinias. Galima būtų pasakyti ir taip: ką tu žinai apie tai, ką aš žinau apie tavo žinias apie mano žinias?

 

Pinkeris mano, kad bendros žinios daro didžiulę įtaką tam, kaip mes gyvename kartu. Tai aiškiai išdėstyta knygos paantraštėje: „Bendros žinios ir jų stulbinantis poveikis pinigams, galiai ir kasdieniam gyvenimui“. Kaip teorinė koncepcija, ji, viena vertus, paaiškina... daugybė socialinio gyvenimo reiškinių, tačiau tuo pačiu metu, anot Pinkerio, jis atskleidžia savo galią mumyse visuose ir keičia tai, kaip mes bendraujame vieni su kitais. Pavyzdžiui, kaip vairuotojai ką tik aprašytoje situacijoje, galėtume bendrauti gestu, nukreiptu į kitą asmenį, kad žinome, jog kitas asmuo žino, jog mes žinome, jog jis žino, ir kartu pradedame vengimo manevrą. Bendros žinios, remiantis Pinkerio pagrindiniu teiginiu, padeda mums koordinuoti savo veiksmus.

 

Žinoma, Pinkeris netiki, kad savo kasdienius veiksmus koordinuojame pernelyg sudėtingomis minčių kaskadomis, tokiomis kaip „Aš žinau, kad tu žinai, kad aš žinau ir pan.“. Priešingai, mes turime įvairių ir kartais labai paprastų būdų parodyti bendras žinias arba tiesiog intuityviai jas laikyti savaime suprantamomis. Gestai jau buvo paminėti, tačiau taip pat galime žodžiu pasiūlyti, kad dalijamės bendromis žiniomis, arba naudoti akivaizdų juoką, kad parodytume kitiems, jog, pavyzdžiui, šaipomės iš pernelyg pasitikinčio savimi kito žmogaus elgesio. „Juokas“, – sako Pinkeris, – „sukuria bendras žinias, kurios meta iššūkį dominavimo, statuso ar prestižo konvencijai“.

 

Taigi, mes Negalime vien tik manyti, kad bendros žinios yra naudojamos veiksmų koordinavimui; mes taip pat galime jas sukurti. Pinkeris kibernetinių patyčių reiškinį aiškina tokiu būdu. Pavyzdžiui, jei kas nors mano, kad kitas asmuo pasielgė neteisingai, jis gali bandyti plačiai skleisti savo „žinias“ socialinėje žiniasklaidoje. Jis taip pat gali aiškiai pasakyti, kad asmuo turėtų būti nubaustas už tariamą netinkamą elgesį. Jei pakankamai kitų žmonių prisijungia prie šios tendencijos, kyla audra, kuri, kaip žinome, gali sugriauti gyvenimus. Kibernetinės patyčios klesti dėl to, kad visi dalijasi tam tikromis žiniomis apie visų kitų žinias: visi žino, kad visi žino, kad visi žino (ir pan.). Tačiau šios žinios ne tiesiog egzistuoja; jas reikia sukurti, o socialinė žiniasklaida tam suteikia galingą įrankį.

 

 

Tai iliustruoja, kaip Pinkeris taiko bendrų žinių sąvoką. Jis tvirtai įsitikinęs, kad jos turi socialinės koordinacijos galią, kurią mums vis dar reikia tiksliau suprasti. Jo požiūrio mastas parodytas skyriuje apie atšaukimo kultūrą, kuriame, reikėtų pažymėti, daugiausia kalbama apie kairiųjų atšaukimo kultūrą universitetuose ir nepaisoma galingų šiandienos dešiniųjų atšaukimo kultūrų. Kodėl mes norime slopinti skirtingas nuomones? Pinkeriui gali būti tik viena priežastis: cenzorius ir anuliavimo šalininkus, matyt, gąsdina ne pati kontroversiškos idėjos mintis ar net išraiška, o jos potencialas tapti bendromis žiniomis. Būtent dėl ​​to, kad bendros žinios daro įtaką, kai tik atsiranda, gali susidaryti situacijos – taip čia reikia suprasti Pinkerį – kai bandoma sutrukdyti jų sklaidai.

 

Tačiau čia išryškėja pirmasis Pinkerio požiūrio trūkumas. „Kontroversiškos idėjos“ nėra žinios. Paimkime vieną iš Pinkerio išvardytų idėjų, kurios aptarimui, jo nuomone, trukdo akademinis anuliavimas: „Ar yra natūralus motyvas vyrams prievartauti?“ Tie, kurie nenori aptarinėti šio klausimo akademiškai, greičiausiai turi įvairių priežasčių. Galima manyti, kad tai moksliškai paneigta. Čia aktuali natūralumo sąvoka gali pasirodyti problemiška, nes natūralistiniai argumentai šimtmečius įteisino moterų diskriminaciją ir priespaudą. Galima paklausti, ką čia turėtų reikšti „motyvas“. Trumpai tariant, tai susiję su epistemologine kokybe. Tai tyrimo klausimas, kurį neabejotinai galima aptarti akademiniuose kontekstuose. Pinkeris galėtų teigti, kad baiminamasi, jog aptariant šį klausimą gali iškilti moksliškai pagrįstų tiesų. Tačiau tam jis turėtų daug tiksliau apibrėžti savo žinojimo sąvoką ir, pavyzdžiui, atskirti tikras ir klaidingas žinias, ko jis nuolat nedaro.

 

Jis už tai moka kainą, nes jo knyga dažnai visai ne apie bendras žinias, o apie bendrus įsitikinimus, kaip aiškiai iliustruoja kibernetinių patyčių pavyzdys. Kodėl tai svarbu? Nes daugelis jo atvejų tyrimų tampa netikslūs atsižvelgiant į šį skirtumą. Pavyzdžiui, jei aš žinau, kad jūs žinote, kad aš žinau, jog turite rasistinę pasaulėžiūrą, tai pasekmės yra visiškai atviros. Galbūt aš viešai kritikuoju jūsų požiūrį. Stiprus neigiamas poveikis gali kilti tik tuo atveju, jei aš pritariu jūsų požiūriui ir ieškau daugiau sąjungininkų, bet tada tai yra bendrų žinių apie bendrus įsitikinimus klausimas, kurie, žinoma, gali būti klaidingi arba moraliai problemiški kaip įsitikinimai. Tikslus aprašymas tada yra ne „Žinau, kad tu žinai“, o „Žinau, kad tu „tiki“; ir tu gali žinoti, kad aš žinau, jog tu tiki. Bent jau šias žinias galima apibūdinti kaip teisingas ar tinkamas, bet – ir tai yra esmė – jų dar negalima apibūdinti kaip bendras žinias.

 

Vis dėlto didelis poveikis, kurį, anot Pinkerio, turėtų turėti bendros žinios, dažnai gali būti pasiektas tik netiesiogiai per bendrus įsitikinimus ar normas. Žinios kaip paprastos žinios, regis, neturi priežastinės galios, kurią joms priskiria Pinkeris. Svarbu tai, ką žinome vienas apie kitą ir kaip jaučiamės dėl to, ką žinome vienas apie kitą, o ne tai, kad žinome ką nors apie kito žmogaus žinias.

 

Taigi knyga neįtikina pagrindinėmis kognityvinėmis-psichologinėmis tezėmis. Pinkeris pernelyg remiasi savo atvejų studijų galia, kurių per daug, beje, yra kilę iš abstraktaus žaidimų teorijos pasaulio, ir išsamiau nepaaiškina savo esminių sisteminių prielaidų. Iš teigiamos pusės: knyga yra pirmas žingsnis diskusijoje, kurią reikėtų tęsti. Bet nieko daugiau.

 

Stevenas Pinkeris: „Jei visi žino, kad visi žino…“ Bendros žinios ir jų stulbinanti įtaka pinigams, galiai ir kasdieniam gyvenimui.

 

 

Iš anglų kalbos vertė M. Wiese. S. Fischer Verlag, Frankfurtas prie Maino, 2025. 416 psl., iliustr., kietas viršelis, 29,00 €.” [1]

 

1. Ich weiß, dass du weißt, dass ich weiß, dass du weißt . . .: Zu steil geratene These: Der Kognitionspsychologe Steven Pinker meint aus gemeinsamem Wissen viel für das soziale Miteinander ableiten zu können. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung; Frankfurt. 10 Jan 2026: 12. MARTIN HARTMANN

I Know That You Know That I Know That You Know...: An Overly Bold Thesis: Cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker believes that much about social interaction can be deduced from the concept of "common knowledge."

“Let’s assume that I know that a red car has stopped in front of me on the road for no apparent reason. I know this because I see it. Let’s further assume that you, too, know that a red car has stopped in front of you on the road for no apparent reason—for you see it as well; after all, you are driving right alongside me. We both see it and we both know it; in the terminology of the Canadian-American cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker, we possess *private knowledge*. Furthermore, we can assume that we both know that the other person knows that a red car has come to a halt for no apparent reason, since we have both brought our own vehicles to a stop. We possess *reciprocal knowledge*—knowledge of the form ‘I know that you know’—which we infer from the behavior we observe in one another. Reciprocal knowledge, however, does not yet constitute *common knowledge*; for that, one additional cognitive loop is required.

 

We possess common knowledge only when we can each say: ‘I know that you know that I know.’ As this phrasing reveals, common knowledge possesses a complex structure, for one could append even more loops: ‘I know that you know that I know that you know that I know’—though at this point, we prefer to simply add an ‘etc.’ in order to avoid inducing a certain degree of cognitive vertigo. ‘When everyone knows that everyone knows...’” "..."—such is the title of Pinker’s latest book. Common knowledge is more than just the knowledge we share—I know it, and you know it; it is also more than the knowledge we possess regarding each other’s individual knowledge—I know what you know, and you know what I know. Rather, it is a form of knowledge directed at that specific part of the other person’s knowledge which, in turn, is directed at our own knowledge of their knowledge. One could also phrase it this way: What do you know about what I know regarding your knowledge of my knowledge?

 

Pinker believes that common knowledge exerts an enormous influence on how we live together. This is made clear by the book’s subtitle: "Common Knowledge and Its Astonishing Impact on Money, Power, and Everyday Life." As a theoretical construct, it serves, on the one hand, to explain numerous phenomena of social life; yet, according to Pinker, it simultaneously unleashes a distinct force within us all, transforming the way we interact with one another. For instance, as drivers in the situation just described, we might use a gesture directed at the other person to communicate that we know that they know that we know that they know—thereby jointly initiating an evasive maneuver. Common knowledge—this is Pinker’s central point—helps us coordinate our actions.

 

Of course, Pinker does not suggest that we coordinate our everyday actions through excessively complex cascades of thought in the form of "I know that you know that I know, etc." Rather, we possess a wide variety of—and sometimes quite simple—methods for signaling common knowledge to one another, or we simply take it for granted intuitively. Gestures have already been mentioned, but we can also use language to hint that we share common knowledge, or employ a conspicuous laugh to signal to others that we are, for example, mocking the overly self-assured demeanor of a third party. "Laughter," says Pinker, "creates common knowledge that challenges a convention of dominance, status, or prestige."

 

Thus, what we employ does not merely presuppose common knowledge for the coordination of action; we can also actively *create* it. In this way, Pinker explains the phenomenon of cyberbullying. If, for instance, someone believes that another person has behaved improperly, they may attempt to widely disseminate their "knowledge" across social media. They may also signal that the individual in question ought to be punished for their alleged misconduct. If enough others jump on the bandwagon, a "shitstorm" ensues—one that, as we know, can destroy livelihoods. Cyberbullying thrives on the fact that everyone shares a certain knowledge regarding the knowledge possessed by everyone else: everyone knows that everyone knows that everyone knows (and so on). Yet this knowledge does not simply exist *a priori*; it must be constructed—and in social media, one possesses a powerful tool for bringing it into being.

 

This illustrates how Pinker employs the concept of common knowledge. He is firmly convinced that it exerts a force of social coordination that we have yet to fully comprehend. The extent to which he pursues this line of argument is demonstrated in his chapter on "cancel culture"—a chapter which, it must be noted, focuses primarily on *left-wing* cancel culture within universities, while largely overlooking the powerful *right-wing* cancel cultures of the present day. Why do we seek to suppress unpopular opinions? For Pinker, there can be only one reason: "What apparently strikes fear and terror into the hearts of censors and proponents of 'canceling' is not that a 'volatile idea' is conceived—or even expressed—but rather that it might become *common knowledge*." Precisely because common knowledge exerts influence once it is established—or so one must interpret Pinker here—situations may arise in which attempts are made to thwart its dissemination.

 

Yet, here lies the first weakness of Pinker’s approach. "Volatile ideas" are not knowledge. Let us take one of the ideas Pinker lists—one whose discussion, in his view, is being stifled by academic "canceling": "Do men possess a natural motive to rape?" Those who are unwilling to discuss this question in an academic setting likely have a variety of reasons for their stance. One might consider the premise to be scientifically refuted. One might find the very concept of the "natural" at play here to be problematic, given that naturalistic arguments have, for centuries, served to legitimize the disadvantage and oppression of women. One might question what, precisely, is meant by "motive" in this context. In short, the issue concerns the *epistemic quality* of the research question itself—a question that, in academic contexts, can undoubtedly be put up for discussion. Pinker might perhaps argue that the fear here is that a discussion of this question would bring scientifically valid truths to light. But to make such a claim, he would need to define his concept of "knowledge" far more precisely—for instance, by distinguishing between true knowledge and false knowledge—something he consistently fails to do throughout his work.

 

He pays a price for this omission; for frequently, his book is not concerned with *common knowledge* at all, but rather with *shared beliefs*—a distinction made evident by his example of cyberbullying. Why does this matter? Because, in light of this distinction, many of his case studies become imprecise. For instance, if I know that you know that I know that you hold a racist worldview, the consequences of that shared awareness remain entirely open to interpretation. Perhaps I will publicly criticize your attitude. A powerfully negative impact can only truly arise if I *share* your attitude and actively seek out further allies—but in that case, what is at issue is a *shared* knowledge of shared beliefs—beliefs which, of course, may themselves be factually incorrect or morally problematic. A precise description, then, is not "I know that you know," but rather "I know that you believe"; and you may know that I know that you believe. At the very least, this specific knowledge can be described as true or appropriate; yet—and this is the crucial point—it cannot yet be characterized as *common knowledge*.

 

However, the profound impact that Pinker claims common knowledge exerts can often only be realized indirectly—via the mediation of shared beliefs or shared norms. Knowledge, as mere knowledge, does not appear to possess the inherent causal power that Pinker attributes to it. What truly matters is *what* we know about one another, and *how* we relate to that knowledge—not simply the fact that we possess knowledge *about* the other person's knowledge.

 

Thus, the book fails to convince regarding its central theses in cognitive psychology; Pinker relies too heavily on the persuasive force of his case studies—far too many of which, incidentally, are drawn from the abstract realm of game theory—while neglecting to sufficiently elaborate upon his fundamental systematic assumptions. To put it more positively: The book represents a first step in a debate that deserves to be continued. But nothing more than that.

Steven Pinker: "When Everyone Knows That Everyone Knows..." Common Knowledge and Its Astonishing Impact on Money, Power, and Everyday Life.

 

Translated from the English by M. Wiese. S. Fischer Verlag, Frankfurt am Main, 2025. 416 pp., illus., hardcover, €29.00.” [1]

 

1. Ich weiß, dass du weißt, dass ich weiß, dass du weißt . . .: Zu steil geratene These: Der Kognitionspsychologe Steven Pinker meint aus gemeinsamem Wissen viel für das soziale Miteinander ableiten zu können. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung; Frankfurt. 10 Jan 2026: 12. MARTIN HARTMANN